#these photos are so ancient but alas

[toothfairyfemme]

something something you can take the femme out of cowboy county but you can’t take the cowboy county out of the femme something something

[covenofthearticulate]

god, I want to share pictures of WHY i haven’t been here/been able to read anyone’s kink week fics, but it is, in fact, illegal 😡

[dcxdpdabbles]

the photo au just has me thinking that lady gotham is shipping dead tired and i love it

(it's a change of pace from her shipping dead on main so that's cool too)

"King Phantom," Danny jumps, not expecting the raspy voice to call from the dark alley he was passing. He turns his gaze to the shadows, squinting as a woman made entirely of smoke and tar takes form, towering over him like the skyscrapers of her city.

His head barely reaches the knees of her dark grey dress. Her outline flickers in the air as if she is nothing but the smoke of a flickering candle about to be blown away.

Despite her aristocracy beauty- her high cheekbones, her smooth skin, and lovely dark curls that fall along her shoulders- her presence inspires a terrible amount of dread.

Around him, people continue to walk by, unable to see her but sensing her all the same. Danny quickly moves off the street, entering the alley of darkness- at once, the city's noise is silenced while the two power ghosts are muted in a safe little bubble.

"Lady Gotham," He greets, bowing his head slightly. It's not quite a nod, for that would be too dismissive of a noble lady, but it's not a complete bow, for that would mean she is higher ranked than he.

"How are you enjoying my domain, your majesty?" Lady Gotham breathes her voice, sending chills down his spine.

"It's lovely. My sister and I are truly enjoying exploring it. I particularly enjoy photographing the scenary." He says, keeping the unease out of his voice. Her black-painted lips pull upwards into a smirk as if amused by his attempt at diplomacy.

If there is one thing Danny has learned, it is that while he is the King Of Ghosts, that doesn't mean he has absolute power- politically wise. Many entities have domains for centuries that have, through those years, earned nobility status among the ghosts.

He couldn't just scorn the noble ghosts. Even Pariah Dark- the most potent ghost of all time- was defeated the first time when the nobles- later renamed Ancients- banned together to take him down.

Lady Gotham was not among those Ancients, but Danny knew she could quickly call upon her allies and dethrone him just as easily. If Danny is a King, she would be the Queen of a neighboring kingdom just gearing up for war if he fumbles his manners.

"Is it truly the scenery that catches your fancy? Surely, there are far prettier things to look at in my domain?" Lady Gotham's voice is soft, like the humming of a gentle river.

Danny blinks, thrown by the question. "I can't say I understand, my Lady. What pretty things do you speak of?"

She flips open a fan, hiding half of her face as her black coal eyes stare at him with an appraising glint.

Above them, a hiss of a grappling hook springs out, and Red Robin flips over their heads in pursuit of a fleeing car. Danny's finger twitched with the huge to pull out his camera and finally get a meme-worthy shot of the teenager.

Alas, he can not do so, for he is speaking to a ghost noble who could use his careless behavior against him at the next afterlife high society meeting.

Lady Gotham's eyes crinkle in amusement. "I speak of what I find amusing but what others find shocking. What can be entertaining but others call fascinating. After all, trying to capture one's faults is where true beauty is found."

Danny fights to keep his face pleasant even if he has no idea what she means. She speaks in riddles, at least. That's what it sounds like to him.

He should introduce her to Clockework. They would have a good time talking in circles around each other.

"That's an interesting outlook, my lady." He settles on. She hums, then snaps her fingers. In front of Danny, a paper appears, floating in swirls of smoke.

"My King, I have existed long before humans found this plot of land and bestowed the name Gotham onto me. Yet I find myself lacking in any solid evidence of my precious people. I can interact with their world, but I can never truly step into it. Especially the Waynes. They have done so much for me through generations, and I can't even greet them properly." Lady Gotham's words may sound sad, but her tone only implies amusement. Danny is instantly weary. "I was wondering if I could ask that you- the bridge between both worlds- would do me a favor to remedy this."

The paper floats closer, and on it, Danny can see it is an invention for the Wayne Charity Gala. His name is printed on the guest list, asking that he join them for his donations to the art programs around the city.

Danny never made such donations because the Fenton's are far from wealthy enough to do so. Lady Gotham was behind this, as she could interact with the world but not the humans. Getting money for the programs under his name would be child's play.

He couldn't say no, per the norms of high society, and he knows she is well aware of this. Lady Gotham has cornered him.

"What is the favor, My Lady?" He asks, pocketing the invitation even though his insides are twisting.

"I only ask for a photo of each current Wyanes." She says, her voice now the sound of falling rain on the city. "Each photo should be the of them individually, for it will be what I display in my lair as their portraits."

Oh, she just wants pictures? Danny could do that!

"Of course." He says, smiling easily up at her. "I shall have that done for you."

"Excellent. I shall await the gala with anticipation."

Danny leaves the alley wondering if he will have a suit nice enough for the event. He'll have to contact Kitty- she was raising fashion designer before her untimely death on Johnny's bike- surely she will know what to dress him in.

He wanders around the city for a few hours, trying to get better shots of the buildings and accidentally getting one of Nightwing mid-sneeze. He giggles at the camera, unaware of Lady Gotham sitting in her haunt in the dark clouds above the city, standing over a three-dimensional model of Gotham City and covered in figures of real-life citizens currently residing in her town.

"Hmmm, Jason hasn't had an embarrassing photo today," She mutters, pushing the figure of Red Hood in front of King Phantom's glowing figurine's path. Her gaze falls on Red Robin- her little Tim- as it moves across the city following the live model's movement.

His figure is also glowing, not nearly as brightly as the King's, but the fact it shares the King's glow means the King has unknowingly claimed him.

She hopes that pushing them together in his civilian forms will allow the two to realize their hearts have been given to one another.

"How romantic." She sighs, floating onto her stomach and kicking her feet. "A King in love with a Knight. Society pushes them apart, but their love will conquer all."

"Sister, must you behave in such a childish manner?" A voice cuts in, and Lady Gotham's face twitches. She turns her head to watch her brother's shift between adult and child.

"Brother. What brings you here?" She asks, unbothered by his comment.

"Can I not visit my dearest little sister?" Clockwork asks, reaching over for a one-sided hug. She returns it with a smirk. "Especially when she messes with the life of the King."

"I do not know what you speak of." She huffs, turning her head back to the humans on her board. Around her, thousands and thousands of miniature models appear as she watches everything that is meant to be for the humans.

"Karma, you know better than to interfere with King Phantom's life, especially if it's something as silly as his love life-"

"Ah ah, brother dearest. You are in charge of time, and I control fate. " She grins. "I can guarantee that they are fated to be. I know it."

Clockwork rolls his eyes, shifting into an old man. "You let humans call you Lady Gotham. I highly doubt you know anything."

She hums, grinning as King Phantom's figure drops into a crouch, pointing a mini camera at Red Robin. Quickly, she leans forward to adjust the vigilante in an alluring position, knowing it will cause the King's heart to flutter when he develops the photos.

Clockwork clicks his tongue. "Honestly, don't you have anything better to do?"

"You should leave your tower more often, Brother. Maybe you could find a date and not nag your younger sister constantly." She taps her lips. "That young John Constinune was rather interested in you-"

"I am leaving!"

She laughs. "You can't run away from fate, brother!"

"Watch me!"

Oh, she plans to; after all, what is more amusing to fate than to see people try to defy her? Either they succeed, which is fascinating to watch them conquer all her trials, or they fail, which is entertaining enough to watch them fumble.

Master Post Link

[part-timewonders]

a list of Kaiba fic recs, in honor of his birthday

I thought I'd have a fic ready for the 25th, but alas, it was not to be. So instead, I pulled together a fic rec list of some of my favorites I've read in the last few months, sorted by ship. I'm sure there's plenty more that I haven't been able to find the links to.

Happy reading! This got way too long so I put the list under the cut.

Flareshipping

it takes two to duel by ImagineYourself

Gen fics

Cozy, Distance by rainstormcolors

If Your Heart Were A House I’d Be Breaking In And Taking Photos Of Your Hair While You Sleep by rowanthestrange

The Inexperienced Spy by DrMiniPie

the last taiyaki by surrenderer (self-rec)

Mokuba Kaiba and the Very Pointed Prank by duelmepharaoh (captain_indigo)

Opinions Shared with The World by Winxhelina

The Past by EriksChampion

“What Common Mistakes Are You Making Over And Over Again?” (Number 3 will SHOCK you) by rowanthestrange

Prideshipping

Allargando by Slaycinder

Apep Swallows the Moon by bobtailsquid

by night by mimsical

The Haunted RV by Winxhelina

Hm n(y)w mri by bobtailsquid

Just Another Duel? by dragonwrangler

Inclement Weather by bobtailsquid

Our Fairly Modest Just A Few Close Friends Ancient Egyptian Wedding by rowanthestrange

Pharaoh's First Con by DrMiniPie

The Poetry of Logic by RookSacrifice

potential/kinetic by peachpal

Save Point by bobtailsquid

Stalemate by duelmepharaoh (captain_indigo), mooguriklaine

Studies and Sales by Winxhelina

sweeter when it's finally found by surrenderer (self-rec)

there's so much left unspoken between the two of us (it's so much more exciting to look when you can't touch) by JigsawLesbian

Unavoidable by DrMiniPie

Puppyshipping

In bed with the mob by Alecto

Menagerie by shadow_of_egypt (Shachaai)

Old Friends by Alecto

Rivalshipping

Doublebooked at 3:30 PM by grevola

Ticket to Ride by Desidera

Unrespectable Society by bobtailsquid

Trustshipping

Catching Z's by DrMiniPie

I Trust This Finds You Well by Sparklefists

Mess and All by DrMiniPie

Scenes From a Journey by JustAWritingAmateur

Self Destruction by MyMisguidedFairytale

when it’s you and me, it’s never too late by scorpionGrass

Does scandalshipping count? well, consider it a bonus, I guess...

A Royal Excursion by TelepathJeneral

The Beast Of My Daydreams by Not Kujaku (WaterTreeProductions)

The High Priest by hakaibunshi

Hushed Scandal by Sparklefists

see me as a secret mission by surrenderer (self-rec)

Serpens Caput, Serpens Cauda by RookSacrifice

The Sound of Drums by shadow_of_egypt (Shachaai)

Throne Room Rendezvous by Slaycinder

[gunilslaugh]

OMG I DIDNT KNOW YOU DID HOGWARTS AUS!!! Could you please do a Slytherin jooyeon x Hufflepuff reader- enemies to lovers? You can do this whenever, make sure to take care of yourself and not burn out ily ❤️❤️❤️

Aww 🥰 ily2 and make sure that you take care of yourself too :) Here's your request!

Lee Jooyeon

Summary: It was a common occurrence for the Slytherin and Hufflepuff houses to not get along, so it was no surprise that Slytherin Jooyeon and Hufflepuff you were always bickering.

WC:2.1k

Warning:grammar, still rusty Harry Potter knowledge, so if there and incorrections I’m sorry

Harry Potter AU

photo not mine credit to owners.

“How can you possibly complain about being a favorite student?” Jooyeon groaned, yet again the both of you were fighting. For the record though you weren’t even initially talking to Jooyeon. Why would you? You solely hated him and wanted nothing more than to just ignore his existence, but alas he always finds a way to pester himself into your life. Just as he’s currently doing right now. You were simply explaining to Jungsu how you found it unfair that your Ancient Ruins Professor favors you. When Jooyeon’s annoying voice interjected.

“It’s not something your self-centered self would understand,” you uttered plainly as you began walking away from him.

“It’s better to be self-centered. Caring about others will only get you hurt,” he called after you.

“Aww are you worried I’ll get hurt?” you turned back with a foe appreciative tone. You see Jooyeon freeze for just a moment before scoffing.

“As if! I was saying caring about your classmates is dumb,”

“Then let me be dumb,” you say, turning and fully walking away from him this time.

“Must you always fight with him?” Jungsu asks tiredly after witnessing your little quarrel. 

“You know I’d rather stay away from him, but somehow always finds me and says stupid things,” you explain just as tired.

“Maybe he likes you,” Jungsu nudges you with his elbow.

“That’s not even close to funny. Don’t say nonsense like that,” the mere thought of Jooyeon liking you alone makes your stomach turn. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your friends aren’t the only ones tired of your and Jooyeons’ constant bickering. His friends are equally as tired.

“Can’t you just leave the Hufflepuff alone Jooyeon? This has been going on for over a year. Aren’t you bored?” Seungmin quizzes Jooyeon.

“I just don’t get what people think is so great about them. Didn’t you hear the Ancient Ruins professor favors them? That dude is literally one of the strictest professors and an even harsher grader. It’s so hard to pass that class, but the professor favors y/n? Why do they deserve to pass that class easily? I’m so much better. It should be me and to make it worse that Hufflepuff isn’t even grateful they think it’s wrong that they’re favored.” Jooyeon ranted.

“You know what I regret asking,” Seungmin sighed. 

“You know what? I’m gonna get a higher grade than them on the next Ancient Ruins test. That’ll prove that I’m better,” Jooyeon proclaimed. 

“I guess you better get to studying then. The next test is in two weeks,” Seungmin said. 

“Two weeks!?” Jooyeon partially shouted. “I got to go,” he quickly said before basically running off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were currently at Honeydukes with Jungsu and Hyeongjun enjoying some drinks. 

“Hah!” an all too familiar voice shouted. You look at the direction of the shout, greeted with Jooyeon holding up his Ancient Ruins test that was marked with an “O”. 

“How’d you know I was here?” you asked. Never thinking he would show up to bother at a place outside of school.

“Doesn’t matter. What did you get?” He dismissed your question. You reached into your school bag and reluctantly pulled out your own test paper that was also marked with an “O”. He glares at your paper before walking away. 

“What was that about?” Hyeongjun questioned. 

“I don’t know, let's forget it happened,” you said, taking a sip of your drink.

It’s been a few weeks since your run in with Jooyeon at Honeydukes. Thankfully that’s the last interaction you’ve had with him. It does feel slightly odd though. You’ve gotten used to frequently squabbling with him. Oddly now you're finding yourself wondering if he’s ok. You blame it on your caring Hufflepuff nature cause certainly there is no other reason for you to worry about him. You hate him or hate might be a bit of a strong word, but you definitely dislike him. 

“Y/n do you want to go watch the quidditch match?” Hyeongjun broke your thoughts. 

“Who’s playing?” You ask.

“Gryffindor versus Slytherin,” he responds. Jooyeon was on the Slytherin quidditch team. Maybe that’s why he’s been out of your hair. He was probably preparing for the match.

“Yeah let’s go,” you respond standing up. You guys made your way to the stadium where you met up with Jungsu and Jiseok. You all sat beside one another exchanging some small talk while waiting for the match to start. However you weren’t really paying attention to the conversation taking place. Instead your eyes found themselves wandering around. Only stopping when they landed on Jooyeon. So he is ok you thought. 

“You know I didn’t really expect you to come y/n,” Jiseok voiced. 

“Gunil’s playing for Gryffindor, so thought I’d support him,” you said.

“That’s why you were staring at Slytherin?” Jiseok asked you, raising a brow skeptically.

“Just checking the competition,” you casually stated. 

You tried. You really tried to focus on Gunil and his playing, yet your eyes seemingly had a mind of their own. They’d be focused on Gunil as you seemingly had to force them to do, but only some moments later you caught yourself staring at Jooyeon. You absolutely couldn’t figure out why. Before you were happiest when he was out of your sight, but now all you wanted was for him to be in your sight. 

The match eventually ended with the Slytherins taking victory. You didn’t know how you felt. You do remember the smile on Jooyeon’s face as they claimed victory though. 

Even the days after the quidditch match Jooyeon is still yet to bother you. Was he avoiding you? You began to think, but what reason would he have for doing that? Better question, Why do you care?

Only a few steps after exiting the classroom for Care of Magical Creatures you feel a body collide with yours causing you to drop your textbook. 

“Watch it Hufflepuff!” A voice shouts. You look up seeing it came from a Slytherin, it only makes sense though. 

“You watch out!” A voice that you hadn’t heard in about a month shouts. 

“What?” The Slytherin sounded offended.

“You bumped into them so you watch out,” Jooyeon said, the last words sounding harsher. The Slytherin scoffed before walking away. Jooyeon was now by your side as he knelt down, picking up your textbook and handing it back to you. Jooyeon just helped you?

“Are you ok?” Jooyeon asked, scanning you over.

“I feel like I should be asking you that since you just helped me,” Jooyeon scratches the back of his neck at your words.

“I just really don’t like that guy. He’s such an asshole,” he explained.

“Congratulations,” you say randomly.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“The quidditch match last week. You guys won, congrats,” you elucidated.

“Right. Thanks,”

“Um I’ll see you around?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but it did.

“Yeah. I’ll see you around?” It came out as a question for him too. 

Jungsu and you were crossing through Central Hall. Jooyeon and Seungmin were passing through as well. When you and Jooyeon noticed each other, you waved.

 “I must be dreaming,” Jungsu said with disbelief. 

“What?” you ask him.

“You and Jooyeon just waved at one another?”

“Yeah, we do that now,” you informed.

“What? Explain! Right now,” he ordered.

“Wait let’s go to the common room first,” 

Thankfully the common room was empty when you got there. Leaving you and Jungsu in privacy. 

“Me and Jooyeon are civil now,” you began.

“What! How? That’s- huh?” Jungsu couldn’t process this information.

“I know, it’s odd for me too,” you stated. “You know how after Honeydukes he started ignoring me?” Jungsu nodded. “Well at first I liked it, but then I found myself worring about him,”

“No way,” 

“I know but I’m not done yet. I actually went to that quidditch match to see Jooyeon,”

‘I knew you were staring at him!”

“Yes, I was, but at the time I was very confused about why. I couldn’t figure it out. Then a few days later this other Slytherin bumped into me outside of the Care for Magical Creatures Class and he helped me,”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He asked offendly.

“Because I didn’t understand my feelings. We had our first non-arguing conversation then. At the end I asked if I’d see him around cause I wanted to see him around.”

“No wait, are you saying?”

“I think I like him,” you confessed.

“What are you gonna do now?

“I don’t know,” you truly had no clue. Understanding these new found feelining was difficult.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Seungmin and Jooyeon were currently in Jooyeon’s room having their own version of the conversation you and Jungsu just had.

“Care to explain why you just waved at Y/n?” Seungmin started interrogating Jooyeon as soon as he closed the door.

“It’s a new thing that we do,” Jooyeon answered.

“Why’s that exactly?” Seungmin pressed.

“We get along now,” Jooyeon told.

“How? I thought that was impossible,” Seungmin says, completely shocked by what Jooyeon just informed him.

“Remember when I was determined to do better than them at Ancient Ruins?” Jooyeon asked to which Seungmin nodded in response. “Well we got the same score and it pissed me off so much that I decided I was gonna ignore them for a few days. I was gonna be y/n free, but then I found myself wanting to see them,” 

“Seriously?” Seungmin is astounded. 

“That realization made me really confused. Why would I want to see the person that I hated? I spent way too much time thinking about it, about them. Then I saw them at the quidditch match. Everytime I looked at them they were looking at Gunil. I got this weird feeling in my stomach. I wanted them,”

“To look at you,” Seungmin finished. Starting to realize where this was going. Jooyeon nodded, confirming Seungmins thoughts.

“A few days ago this one guy from our house bumped into them and yelled at them to watch it. It made me so furious. Before I even knew what I was doing I was yelling at the guy that he should watch out. After that we had an actual conversation and it was nice. They even congratulated me on winning the match. By the end we said we’d see each other around,” Jooyeon finished. 

“So what are you telling me is?”

“I like them,” Jooyeon confessed.

“What are you gonna do about it?” 

“Don’t know yet,” It’s not like he could just walk up to you and tell you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It appears you and Jooyeon took saying “See you around.” too literally, cause that’s all you two did, see each other around. You guys haven't actually talked since he helped you. 

“Y’know you guys can actually talk to one another? You don’t have to hopelessly stare at each other,” Jiseok tells you. A lot of students were just chilling in The Quad, including you and Jooyeon.

“I don’t know what to talk to him about,” you say.

“You could tell him you like him,” Jiseok spoke. All your friends were sick of you two at this point. First it was constant fighting, now it’s pathetic pinning.

“No I can't, that'd be weird to just say it,” you said. Jiseok and Jungsu exchange looks before nodding.  Before you can even question them they’re already pulling you by the arms and dragging you over towards Jooyeon. Whose friends were also dragging him towards you.

“Just talk to each other please, we're all tired,” Gunil told before they walked off leaving you and Jooyeon to yourselves. 

“You wanna take a walk?” you suggest timidly.

“Yeah sure,” he responds with a small smile. The pair of you exiting The Quad and beginning to walk around the outside of Hogwarts castle. It didn’t take long for silence to surround you. 

“Y/n?” Jooyeon broke the silence.

“Yeah,” you responded.

“I need to tell you something,” he appreises.

“Ok go I head, I actually have something to tell you too,” you notify him. He takes a moment before speaking.

“I like you,” he confesses. A sense of relief is the first thing you feel, but happiness is quick to follow it.

“I like you too,” you confessed back with a smile.

Now you and Jooyeon walk around Hogwarts holding hands as a happy couple. You still have quarrels though. Except now they are lovers quarrels and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[i-am-the-oyster]

Accessing the Stowe School Recording

What is the Stowe School Recording?

On the 4th of April 1963 (two weeks after the release of Please Please Me) the Beatles played a gig at Stowe School in Buckinghamshire. One of the students present (John Bloomfield) recorded the gig, and recently rediscovered that recording. He donated it to the British Library, which means anyone can go and listen to it (see below for details).

Is it worth it?

Obviously your mileage may vary, but for me that answer is definitely yes. I wasn't expecting the recording to be over an hour long, but I stayed and listened to the whole thing. I reckon I'll go back again if I can fit it in next time I'm in London.

Alright, how do I listen to it?

The recording is free to listen to, and is available in the Sound Archive at the British Library in London. The building is about 2 minutes walk from King's Cross St Pancras. (map)

You need a Reader Pass to access the room. If you're a UK citizen you can just get one on the day, but if you're not then I recommend starting the process online before you go.

You will need:

Photo ID

Proof of address

They give you an ID card that's valid for 3 years. The process was pretty straightforward and the staff are very helpful. They have very good cloakroom facilities and free secure lockers, so if you have carry-on sized luggage with you, you can store it there while you visit.

They're very strict about what's allowed into the reading rooms, so plan to use the lockers.

Once you have your card, go to the Rare Books and Music reading room on Floor 1. Marvel at the ancient tomes people are carefully examining. Find a computer with a set of headphones attached (towards the back right of the room) and set yourself up. If you have your own laptop you can use one of the empty spots in that area.

Search the catalogue for something like "Stowe Beatles". There are pages and pages of other recordings you might also like to listen to.

What's the playlist?

I Saw Her Standing There Too Much Monkey Business Love Me Do Some Other Guy Misery I Just Don’t Understand A Shot of Rhythm and Blues Boys! Matchbox From Me To You Thank You Girl Memphis Tennessee A Taste of Honey Twist and Shout Anna Please Please Me Hippy Hippy Shake I’m Talking About You Ask Me Why Till There Was You Money (there's a section here where the tape got recorded over with an incredibly annoying song) I Saw Her Standing There (reprise)

My highlights

Stowe School was an all-boys school at the time, but it's clear from the recording that there are girls at the gig.

Boys! gets a huge response, and I'm pretty sure it's Ringo singing Matchbox immediately after. Later (around 55m) the crowd starts chanting for Ringo to sing again.

There's a good amount of banter between John and Paul, not all of it very clear. I'd love a chance to sit and listen to those parts over and over again, and see what I can make out. Alas I didn't have time, and I only had the in-browser audio player, which made it basically impossible to hop around.

The crowd starts shouting out requests at some point, and some boys shout for A Taste of Honey. There's some laughter, and the timing of it sounds to me like John is mugging.

Towards the end someone shouts for How Do You Do It and one or John or Paul sings the opening phrase, with an audible smile, but they don't sing it.

Anything else?

If you can, I recommend bringing your own laptop and headphones. There are computers and headphones there, but the browser interface is not ideal for going to specific timestamps, you have limited control over volume, and I think you'd get more out of it with medium to high end headphones.

If you want to skip the truly awful song that got recorded over a section of the tape, the original comes back in around 1:01:25.

In the same building they have some of Hunter Davies's donation on display in the Treasures Gallery. This was a small selection on the day I went, and I was pretty disappointed, but they do rotate those displays every six months. It may also be possible to access the other items for research purposes, I haven't investigated that yet.

[wardenred]

Sapphic September 3: 3 AM

Pretty much a free writing exercise, I guess.

The familiar ringtone I haven't heard in six months rips through the silence of my apartment. Shabby, my ancient cat, twitches an ear in her sleep and stretches, pushing the phone off its usual charging place on the edge of my mattress. On the floor, it continues singing the song of the past, and I should really pick it up—the phone, not the call, any wise person would simply ignore the call—but I'm frozen.

"Meow," Shabby says. Her eyes are still closed, but her annoyance is apparent. I nearly fall out of my desk chair as I scramble up, then down on my knees. I stare at the phone screen. The initial followed by a sparkling heart emoji blinks back at me. I remember changing that heart to a broken one on the evening of our oh so amicable break-up, then deciding I was being too dramatic and refusing to save the change.

The song goes on and on, an old melancholy tune with a trace of hope in it. Babe, I'm Gonna Leave You. What did I ever expect, really, with a song like that to serve as our romantic theme? She all but warned me on the very first night when I heard her sing in that dumb karaoke bar for the first time.

Behind the paper-thin wall, a neighbor coughs. I draw a breath. The last two brain cells I possess vote unanimously for tapping Dismiss, and like the fool that I am, I go for Accept instead.

"Yes?" I've got the perfect excuse for my shaky voice, for how long it's taken me to respond. Just look at the time!

"Hey you." She dares to sound just like herself, like all these months of distance have never happened, and I think I'll never breathe again. Consider me dead. "So what are you doing awake at 3 AM for the fifth night in a row?"

"How do you—"

"I can see you online on Discord. And Facebook. And basically everywhere."

Oh. Right. We're still friends on basically everywhere. Messengers, socials, she's on every contact list I have. I'd lie if I said I don't still waste unreasonable chunks of time just staring at her userpic, the same across all of the Internet. A photo I took with a filter she applied. Except I don't see her online all that often, and when I do, it's always with some stupid red status icon. Busy. Away. Do Not Disturb.

"I ran into your friend Maggie tonight," she continues,as if this was a perfectly normal conversation. "She said you’re dating her brother."

"Uh." That's not quite true. John and I have agreed to go on a date. Next week. It hasn't even happened yet. In truth, I'm not sure I want it to happen. Maybe I will conveniently get sick right around Friday evening. Or there might be a food poisoning. Or a sprained ankle. Normally, I prefer excuses focused on last-minute work projects I couldn't say no to, because I have this stupid conviction it makes me look like a responsible adult. Alas, those don't fly so well on the weekends.

"Don't do that," she says. "I don't want you to."

Such a simple request, worded so confidently, like she has any right whatsoever to dictate what happens in my life. The life she's no longer even a part of.

I can't help but laugh at the sheer audacity. Shabby opens one yellow eye and peers at me in such abject displeasure I am forced to reach out and give her all the pats to compensate for the inconvenience.

In a certain light, her eyes look yellow, too, though they never lost their green. Like an autumn lake with golden leaves floating over murky waters, illuminated by the last rays of sunset.

"So?"

"So?.." I repeat after her.

"You won't do that, right?"

"Darling," and I meant to use her name, I swear I meant to, but the usual endearment flows way too easily of my lips. "I don't think you get a say in what I do or don't do any longer."

"Well, no one else is running an intervention, so I kind of have to!"

"What on earth makes you think I need an intervention?!"

"Duh. You own stupid plan? Come on. You don't even like guys most of the time."

"Some of the time I like them just fine," I counter. "And it's John. He's—he's sweet."

"If you ever liked John that way, you would have both gone for it a long time ago.”

He likes me that way, though. He has for a while. And that's why I should feel guilty for how the chances of me getting food poisoning on Friday are plummeting down. I kind of want to go out with John now. Just to give her an excuse to run more interventions.

This is reckless. Twisted. Not like me at all.

All the things she's always brought out in me.

"You won't go, will you?"

"Why are you up at 3 AM on the weekday stalking my socials?"

Neither of us gets an answer we want.

[canary0]

May 7 - Dracula 2023

I finally had a chance to rest the last day or so, and it’s the wee hours in the morning again when I get to this. When I finally woke up yesterday, I found a cold breakfast laid out with coffee kept warm on the hearth. Another reminder of the lack of electricity – the last time I’d had a drink warmed like that was hot chocolate on a friend’s wood stove during an especially cold winter, and it was more out of enjoy the ambiance of doing so than necessity.

This may be the greatest wealth I’ve ever been around personally, which makes the things lacking stand out all the more. The table setting is made of gold of all things, and wrought with great beauty and detail. All of the fabrics in the room were equally fine and elaborate and the designs didn’t look like any kind of modern reproduction. They reminded me of some of the historical displays in Hampton court, but far better preserved. Even if they weren’t so finely woven and of fine materials, they would represent enormous historic value.

Yet, despite the ostentation, there are no mirrors anywhere that I could find. There wasn’t even a mirror for shaving, so I had to use my phone’s camera in selfie mode to shave and brush my hair. Not exactly what I wanted to use its reserves of power for, but it’s important to look professional in front of a client. Consider this a note to self to pack a mirror in the future just in case.

Once I had finished grooming myself, breakfast (or dinner? It was around 5 or six when I ate), getting dressed, etc, I looked for something to read, since I didn’t want to go wandering around without permission and I didn’t want to waste my laptop’s charge. There was nothing in my room, bookshelf, writing materials or anything like that… which seemed odd, since without electricity or internet, writing seems rather important. I opened another door in the room, and lo and behold, it was the complete opposite.

Books lined multiple shelves in the room, all in English, as well as bound volumes of magazines and newspapers. The table at the center was covered in books, magazines, and newspapers, as well, though they didn’t look recent. The subjects – aside from all being related to English life and customs and whatnot – were as varied as you could imagine, in every conceivable direction. Botany, geography, politics, history, law, you name it, there was a book on it. Plus, there were a lot of reference books, like an ancient print copy of the London Directory, GDP estimates, the Financial Statement and Budget Report from a few years ago (before COVID, it’s grimly amusing to think how much that has likely changed), and Almanac, the Army, Navy, and Law Lists, which haven’t been published since before 2000. It was like the conspiracy room of someone who’d gotten it into their head that England didn’t exist.

Photo by Gabriel Ghnassia on Unsplash (https://unsplash.com/photos/VmS8VQ0n39Q)

While I explored the vast array of book, the Count entered and gave me a hearty wave and said, “I am glad you found your way in here, for I am sure there is much that will interest you. These companions have been good friends to me, and for some years past, ever since I had the idea of going to London, have given me many, many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come to know your great England; and to know her is to love her. I long to go through the crowded streets of your mighty London, to be in the midst of the whirl and rush of humanity, to share its life, its change, its death, and all that makes it what it is. But alas! as yet I only know your tongue through books. To you, my friend, I look that I know it to speak.”

He said alas out loud in a sentence with no irony. I could assess the issue. “You speak English very well and clearly know it thoroughly. I suppose you mean getting a feel for natural conversation in it?”

He bowed gravely. “You estimate is all too flattering, but the latter is accurate. I know the words and the grammar, but should I move and speak in your London, there are none who would not know me for a foreigner. That is not enough for me. Here I am noble; I am boyar; the common people know me, and I am master. But a stranger in a strange land, he is no one; men know him not—and to know not is to care not for. I am content if I am like the rest, so that no man stops if he see me, or pause in his speaking if he hear my words, ‘Ha, ha! a stranger!’ I have been so long master that I would be master still—or at least that none other should be master of me. You come to me not alone as agent of my friend Peter Hawkins, of Exeter, to tell me all about my new estate in London. You shall, I trust, rest here with me awhile, so that by our talking I may learn the English intonation; and I would that you tell me when I make error, even of the smallest, in my speaking. I am sorry that I had to be away so long to-day; but you will, I know, forgive one who has so many important affairs in hand.”

It felt a little sad that someone would be so worried about seeming too foreign, but after the treatment of Polish people and the whole Brexit thing, I could understand. Not wanting to stand out in England’s current political climate is nothing if not understandable for someone purchasing an estate with intent to move there. Naturally, I assured him I would be more than happy to help, and asked if it was all right for me to come and go in this room as I pleased.

“Yes, certainly,” he agreed, and added, “You may go anywhere you wish in the castle, except where the doors are locked, where of course you will not wish to go. There is reason that all things are as they are, and did you see with my eyes and know with my knowledge, you would perhaps better understand.”

“Yes, indeed. I can only imagine,” I agreed. My mind naturally drifted back to the experiences I wrote about on my way here.

“We are in Transylvania; and Transylvania is not England. Our ways are not your ways, and there shall be to you many strange things. Nay, from what you have told me of your experiences already, you know something of what strange things there may be.”

It seemed like a perfect segue into all the questions I had wanted to ask about local superstitions, rumors, practices, all the things I had seen an experienced on my way in. He answered most of what I had to ask straightforwardly, though occasionally he tried to shift subjects or pretended to understand, and I let it go aside from making a mental note about it. There seems to be a lot of sudden disappearing language knowledge going around. I eventually asked him about some of the previous night’s experiences as time went on, like the coachman going out and building caerns where he saw the blue flames. He explained that apparently there was a common belief that at last night in particular (when all evil supposedly holds sway) blue flames appear where treasure has been concealed.

“That treasure has been hidden,” he went on, “in the region through which you came last night, there can be but little doubt; for it was the ground fought over for centuries by the Wallachian, the Saxon, and the Turk. Why, there is hardly a foot of soil in all this region that has not been enriched by the blood of men, patriots or invaders. In old days there were stirring times, when the Austrian and the Hungarian came up in hordes, and the patriots went out to meet them—men and women, the aged and the children too—and waited their coming on the rocks above the passes, that they might sweep destruction on them with their artificial avalanches. When the invader was triumphant he found but little, for whatever there was had been sheltered in the friendly soil.”

I’m sure I looked confused to him when I asked, “How isn’t everyone going out on that night to try and find these treasures?”

“Because your peasant is at heart a coward and a fool! Those flames only appear on one night; and on that night no man of this land will, if he can help it, stir without his doors. And, dear sir, even if he did he would not know what to do. Why, even the peasant that you tell me of who marked the place of the flame would not know where to look in daylight even for his own work. Even you would not, I dare be sworn, be able to find these places again?”

Peasant, was it? He did mention how he was nobility – or at least was before Romania changed its government structure, and before communism and whatnot. He stilled seemed to hold some sway in the local area from the way people behaved. I suppose that sort of thinking is to be expected. Still, I mentioned, with not a little hesitation, considering his apparent passion on the subject, “If I had marked them on a map, I probably could.”

He chuckled at that. “There are very few maps of this land, my friend.”

I wasn’t sure whether to bring GPS into this discussion, so I simply nodded in agreement. Come to think of it, I have little sense of direction after the coachmen took us hither and yon the other night.

Note to self: figure out how to use the offline GPS once I’m done writing here.

The conversation wound away into other things soon after. “Come, tell me of London and the house which you have procured for me,” he said, making a sort of inviting gesture. I apologized for getting so off-track and got up to go get my laptop and the printed materials for him. As I did, I heard a clattering in the other room, and by the time I had everything sorted out and came back, all the food was taken care of, the lamps were lit, and the Count was laying back on the couch, reading the National Rail Timetable from 2007, the last time it was printed. When I arrived, he cleared off the table and I opened my laptop and started going into figured and details of all sorts about the place, its surroundings, and the neighborhood past that. I brought up the pictures I had taken of the area and what I had gathered from the real estate listing. In the end, he seemed to know a lot more than even I did about the place, though the pictures were very interesting to him.

When I commented that it seemed like he knew everything there was to know about it, he replied, “Well, but, my friend, is it not needful that I should? When I go there I shall be all alone, and my friend Harker Jonathan—nay, pardon me, I fall into my country’s habit of putting your patronymic first—my friend Jonathan Harker will not be by my side to correct and aid me. He will be in Exeter, miles away, probably working at papers of the law with my other friend, Peter Hawkins. So!”

We went over all the contracts and informational documents, and he signed everywhere he needed to. I was halfway through typing out an email to send to Mr. Hawkins about it when I remembered that my little generator was the only thing with electricity. I shut off the computer and wrote out the letter by hand instead.

I also read out my notes about Carfax to him: “At Purfleet I found a listing for a property that seemed to meet all of the criteria. It’s off on a side road, and the notice on the actual property that it’s for sale seems years old. It’s surrounded by a positively ancient high stone wall that’s also looking much worse for wear.

The estate is called Carfax, probably a corruption of “quatre face”, since the original building seems to have been four-sided facing the cardinal directions. It’s 20 acres, all of it contained in this massive surrounding wall. The interior is essentially forest, and I ran across a small, clear, likely spring-fed pond with a good sized stream that runs away from it. One of the walls of the house itself is very thick and with high, narrow windows with bars over them – probably a late medieval structure that was added onto. We’ll have to have an inspection done to make sure it’s up to code for this kind of thing. It’s near an old chapel or church, and I couldn’t enter, since it wasn’t a formal showing (although I did have permission to inspect the grounds). The house has been added to in what seems like a very intermittent and uneven way, but it seems huge altogether. It’s not a densely populated area – the closest house, a large one that was converted into a private mental hospital, can’t even been seen from the house.”

“I am glad that it is old and big. I myself am of an old family, and to live in a new house would kill me. A house cannot be made habitable in a day; and, after all, how few days go to make up a century. I rejoice also that there is a chapel of old times. We Transylvanian nobles love not to think that our bones may lie amongst the common dead. I seek not gaiety nor mirth, not the bright voluptuousness of much sunshine and sparkling waters which please the young and gay. I am no longer young; and my heart, through weary years of mourning over the dead, is not attuned to mirth. Moreover, the walls of my castle are broken; the shadows are many, and the wind breathes cold through the broken battlements and casements. I love the shade and the shadow, and would be alone with my thoughts when I may.” The smile that he gave as he spoke wasn’t a pleasant smile of contentment. There was something dark and malignant in it. I managed to maintain my professional dignity and not squirm under it.

He left shortly after with an excuse about something or other, and it lifted the pressure in the room. I got the papers in order and went to look at some of the books, taking an atlas off the shelf. It was worn to the point that it opened to England naturally, where a few locations were circled: the east side of London, where Carfax was, Exeter, and Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.

It was a good while before the door opened and the Count swept in again, seeming in a good mood. “Aha!” he said, “still at your books? Good! But you must not work always. Come; I am informed that your supper is ready.” He took me by the arm to guide me into the other room. I’m not sure if anyone but Mina touches my hand and arm this much.

As the night before, he just sat by while I ate, saying that he had dined out while he was away. Dined where? I have to think there must be a village or something nearby that I’m not aware off. Under the circumstances, it wouldn’t be a terrible surprise. We spoke until it felt like it must be getting very early, because the chill that comes over people at around 4 am, no matter how warm it is otherwise, came over me and I shivered a little. I’ve heard that people near death will often die at the changing of the tides or of the sun at the horizon – something about the change in the atmosphere. It must have been even later than that, because just then we heard a cock crow from below, and the Count nearly leapt to his feet.

“Why, there is the morning again! How remiss I am to let you stay up so long. You must make your conversation regarding my dear new country of England less interesting, so that I may not forget how time flies by us.” He left quickly after a bow. The whole thing felt very sudden.

Regardless, I went into my room and closed the curtains. It didn’t seem to make all that much difference, though, so I opened them up again, and decided to write. With that, it’s time to make sure the solar panels are secure and try to figure out the GPS. It’d be nice to have some idea of where I am beyond, “kind of near the Tihuta Pass somewhere.”

(A/N: As far as I know, most dudes these days don’t casually pack mirrors, so… selfie camera time! Also, yes, that was a Pepe Silvia reference, since when I reread the description of the England Library for this, it IMMEDIATELY reminded me of that scene.

Feel free to correct me on the Army, Navy, and Law lists if you know. The lastest date I could find on any of them was 1970, which… uh… honestly seemed fitting for Big D. For similar reasons, I haven’t changed his dialogue at all – he’s in much the same headspace in 2023 as he would have been in 1896.

I can already see at least one point of major plot divergence coming now that I’ve written this chapter, so it probably won’t be a scene-for-scene retelling for the whole time. Info moves fast in the modern world.)

[saucy-sassy-sparkly]

Pursuit of Happiness 3: Three's Company

Pairing: Chris Evans x Kat Littleman (OFC)

Summary: New England political daughter Kat Littleman is constantly showing up for her mother’s campaigns, playing the part of the perfect daughter in the perfect, American family.  When her paths cross with Chris Evans while he canvases DC to build out ASP, she’s forced to face some truths about herself, her family, and her future.  

Word Count: ~5.9k

Series Masterlist

3: Three’s Company

It had been four days since Chris stormed away from her backyard, and Kat hadn’t stopped feeling guilty. At the grocery store on Thursday afternoon, she thought she’d seen him down the cereal aisle and had taken a deep breath and started to walk towards him, mentally preparing her apology, before the man stood up and turned out to be very much not Chris. She’d scampered away before he noticed her.

She was pretty sure she’d pegged him incorrectly and with time to process, she realized she’d definitely jumped to conclusions about his appearances this week. Kat managed to get “review the company website” onto their Wednesday team meeting agenda and found that her face was not very visible; you had to click through several links to get to the founder's page and even then, it was the very last item on that page.

And her house backed up to public property. She couldn’t very well be angry with him for walking on a lakefront trail. Lots of people did that. Chris had been right, it was a public park and a public area; just because her backyard was on the trail didn’t mean she owned it, nor did it mean he’d intentionally come to her home.

None of her guilt had stopped her from feeling anxious about Chris and his sudden reappearance. She was so protective of her personal life; she’d grown up under her mother’s watchful, critical eye and then gotten dragged into every single one of said mother’s campaigns from the time she was in high school. It had started easy, just a little appearance now and then at a town event but suddenly Mallory’s sights kept getting bigger and bigger and she wanted her family with her. She threw them into interviews and photo ops and every opportunity to parade them around. One of Mallory’s favorite things to do was to deflect from a personal comment about her by offering up a personal tidbit about Kat instead.

So, the flutter in her stomach at the sight of Chris and the itch to feel his touch again made Kat more than a little apprehensive. She hadn’t been joking when she said she was suspicious of his motives. Important, wealthy guys like him could get whatever and whoever’s attention they wanted with a few phone calls- she’d watched most of the guys she went to high school with do it even then, but with Daddy’s name as their bait. Even if their run-ins this week had truly been coincidental, she couldn’t help feeling a little cynical at the idea of it all being entirely by chance.

Chris confused her and enticed her and made her head foggy for the whole week while she tried to navigate her feelings and hopefully push him entirely out of her mind. Alas, he was still on her mind Saturday morning while she got up, let Amelia out, and sat reading with her first cup of coffee from one of her HopeLives mugs– just like the ones she’d set out for everyone at the foundation. He popped into her mind as she pushed through the gate at the back of her yard and onto the path around the lake; she was picturing him stalking away from her. He was still on her mind when she planted herself on the park bench and sipped the warm coffee in her travel mug, before yanking her beanie tighter over her ears.

The November weather had turned from crisp to brisk in a matter of days. Every few minutes, a gust of seemingly Arctic wind would whip across the lake and chill Kat through her big red jacket, jeans, gloves, hat, and the ancient, crusty Uggs she refused to get rid of. They ruined almost every outfit at this point because they were so old and dirty, but she didn’t care. Every year she’d order a new set of fresh, cozy insoles and wear them all winter long to walk Amelia or do a quick run to the mailbox.

It was almost noon; she’d been sitting here for almost an hour while the sun occasionally poked out from behind the clouds. Kat killed the time making a mental list of items to pick up at the grocery store later, too cold to get out her phone and make a real one– that would require taking off her gloves. She was grateful the coffee was still warm and that Amelia was laying with her head in Kat’s lap on the park bench. It wasn’t quite freezing yet but it was cold enough with the ominous clouds lingering overhead and the air off the water.

You’d never know it was almost freezing based on Ollie.

He sat in the sandbox adjacent to the lake’s playground, digging with a tiny yellow shovel and carefully pouring his collection into a blue pail. His little brow furrowed in concentration as he moved in slow motion, reaching across his body with the shovel and dumping it with care. When he’d successfully added to the growing pile of sand in the bucket, he’d pause, look up at Kat with a proud grin, she’d return a thumbs up or a ‘great job!’ and then he’d do it all again.

If he was in charge, he’d sit out here all day, rain or shine or snow, and dig in this sandbox. He could pour sand into that bucket without interruption– it was essentially the only time he was still so Kat embraced the moment to sit down, even if it meant doing it outside on a November day in Massachusetts. She was convinced Amelia had some husky in her as she seemed to luxuriate in the cold rather than shiver as Kat was.

Kat forced herself off the bench, her bones creaking from sitting on the cold, hard surface for so long, and knelt on the edge of the sandbox. Amelia stared at her from her perch, entirely confused as to why the snuggling had ended, and then begrudgingly got down and sat dutifully next to Kat. Kat ran a gloved hand through the sand, making note of the way Ollie’s little fingers were bright red from the cold– he’d refused the mittens she brought with him and she’d decided that allowing him full dexterity was a sacrifice she’d make. “Hey bubs,” she leaned down to catch his attention, “five-minute warning, okay?”

When he nodded at her, she sat back on her haunches, continuing to watch his slow, careful activity. He’d been to the beach both of the last two summers– Mallory and Tim had a house on the Cape and had allowed Kat access to it whenever she wanted. She’d taken him once alone when he was hardly one, and then again last summer when her parents were also at the house, but he didn’t seem to remember. It wasn’t until about a month ago that they’d been on a walk around the lake with Amelia and he’d seen the sandbox as if it was the most incredible thing in the world.

His sweet little face lit up and he’d tottle towards it, crawling in without warning and dropping on his bum to run his hands through the course sand, grinning up at Kat. They’ve visited every weekend since then. Each time they came, they brought his yellow shove, his blue pail, and nothing else. He needed nothing else to get literally hours of enjoyment and Kat was not about to stop him.

Except she was about to stop him because the timer would go off any minute and she needed to start the fireplace at home and restore some feeling to her appendages. She didn’t know how she was going to explain to Ollie that the sandbox wasn’t a four-season activity in Massachusetts; at some point, she’d have to cut him off and she knew it would be devastating. Two-year-old tantrums are no joke. Not quite old enough to get it, but old enough to be pissed.

Miraculously, Ollie left the sandbox gracefully, holding his small shovel and pail in one hand and Kat’s hand in the other as they started towards the path back home. Kat kept up a running conversation with her son, babbling to him and engaging in his toddler talk– some of which was coherent, but much of which wasn’t– as Amelia tracked the path for other dogs to greet, wild animals to hunt, or new human friends to play with.

“Should we go to the grocery store before or after lunch,” Kat asked him, looking down at her favorite human and listening to him ramble off a string of words, several of which she could comprehend but many were still garbled. “Okay then, let’s go home and play, and then we can have lunch, take a nap, and go to the grocery store, sound good?”

Ollie was babbling again when Kat looked up, tugging on Amelia’s leash to get her attention and reign her back in. She was waggling frantically; Kat followed her line of vision and her eyes first hit a happy, fluffy, tan, and white pup looking equally frantic to get to Amelia. Kat’s heart thudded harder in her chest when her eyes trailed up the red leash the dog was on, up the arm of the unassuming owner, and into the eyes of Chris.

He was in tan boots, jeans, and a huge, black winter coat, and on his head was a Red Sox cap. He didn’t notice her at first, he was staring straight ahead watching his dog and trying to keep control of him just as Kat was with Amelia. When he looked around to figure out what had captured Dodger’s attention, he saw Amelia’s joyful face first. Quickly, his memory kicked in of that day almost a week ago when he’d been standing at a white picket fence, petting a sweet dog… that sweet dog… Kat Littleman’s sweet dog. His eyes moved slowly from the dog, up the leash, the arm, the shoulder, and up to Kat’s face. He was about to give Kat a curt nod when he noticed the third figure with them.

The small boy in a navy blue dinosaur winter coat and an aviator hat lined with sherpa fleece was clutching Kat’s hand and staring up at her adoringly. Kat had come to a stop on the path, looking like a deer in headlights while she stared at Chris. Amelia was entirely out of her control, stretching to the end of her leash and straining her wiggling body towards Dodger.

While Kat was still in a trance staring at Chris, her thoughts went immediately to the day at the fence and how bad she’d ended up feeling about it. In all honesty, if she’d had his number, she probably would’ve called him to apologize. Or at least sent a text. People walked by the house all the time. It was not uncommon to run into a client from the foundation, a friend from yoga, or even someone she’d been on a date with before.

She’d been a little taken aback at his comment about not being memorable– she’d thought the evening was pretty memorable. Kat had the image of herself coming undone on his hand and his cock burned into her memory. She’d also been wearing out the batteries of her vibrator trying to achieve the same intense climax she’d gotten with Chris that night.

Standing in the middle of the path, gazing right back at Kat, Chris was reminding himself of all the ways she had made it clear she wasn’t interested. He’d stalked back around the lake and to his car after leaving her yard last week and brooded about her attitude, and her bitchy demeanor, and tried to place blame. He also realized that, from her perspective, it was awfully strange that he’d shown up twice in one day seemingly by accident.

Truth be told, if he wanted to, he could’ve gotten access to her workplace or address. A few calls from his assistant to the right people, name drop in the right place, and people fell at his feet. He tried not to flex that too often, but occasionally it was helpful. So yeah, if he’d wanted to find her, he could’ve tried harder and dug deeper and actually planned to run into her. But he hadn’t done that! He’d been trying to work! He’d been trying to go for a goddamn walk with his dog! He’d just happened to stumble upon her workplace and then her home…

But no, she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in him, so he was not about to give her the satisfaction of looking flustered. It didn’t matter that his heart was in his throat. It didn’t matter that he could still hear the pretty noises she’d made as he’d made her come. It. Didn’t. Matter.

And… there was a child with her.

Could she have a child? Was she married or had a boyfriend and that was why she was so desperate to leave what happened in DC behind?

“Chris, hi,” Kat’s breathy, nervous voice pulled at his heartstrings and made him want to move closer to her. He resisted.

“Am I allowed to walk here?” Her face looked startled at his brash response and just as quickly her face flushed and she averted her eyes. He immediately felt guilty; he was letting his emotions get the best of him. Fuck, Chris, why would you say that? “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I probably deserved that,” she played with the dog’s leash in her hand and took a step toward Chris and Dodger. She raised her eyebrows at Chris, looking between the dogs and then back at him and he nodded, letting Dodger’s leash loosen so they could greet each other. “This is Amelia,” Kat explained, watching the dogs come together.

“Dodger.”

A silence fell between the gathered group while everyone watched Dodger and Amelia sniff at each other, their tails beating hard enough they might’ve been able to propel a small airplane. Chris’s eyes kept drifting over to the little boy who was grinning at the dogs and reaching for them. Kat kept his hand tucked into hers.

“He’s really friendly and good with kids. I have nieces and nephews.” Chris offered, looking at the boy and not Kat.

Kat looked between Chris and Ollie and then tugged on his hand to get his attention. His little face looked up at hers and she couldn’t help but grin. Chris noticed the dimples in her cheeks and his heart swelled. “You can say hi to Dodger, Ol,” she nodded toward the dogs and watched him take a step away from her and drop her hand, giggling as he reached for the dogs with his pudgy little fingers.

“Who’s this?” Chris finally asked, taking in the gentle way both dogs greeted the boy. He watched Kat’s face as she took a calming breath and then looked him dead in the eye.

“This is my son, Oliver. He’s almost two.” Her response hung in the air between them. Chris didn’t have a right to be upset if a woman he’d slept with once didn’t disclose her motherhood, but somehow he wished he’d known. He wished they’d had enough of a rapport to share that kind of information. He wanted it with her; why he did was still a mystery to him. He still couldn’t understand what drew him so strongly to Kathrine Littleman, but he found himself standing here in this park, watching her son play with his dog, and feeling a little slighted that he didn’t know. He tried to shake it off.

Chris settled on a response that every parent loved, “he’s a cutie.”

Kat’s face split into a true grin when she looked at her son lovingly, “thank you,” she paused and then bit her bottom lip. Chris could see the wheels turning as she glanced at him, then back to the dogs, then back up at him again. “Listen, Chris, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell your one night stand you have a kid,” Chris laughed even though he felt very differently, “no problem.”

“No,” Kat looked at him with an expression he couldn't place, “I mean I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you last week. It was uncalled for.”

“Oh, that,” Chris rocked on his heels, “don’t worry about it.”

“I was really rude. I’m sorry I reacted like that. It just seemed so strange and impossible to be coincidental and I realize now that I was too harsh.”

He was about to say something like ‘don’t worry about it’ but the next few moments happened in slow motion. Ollie had tottered in between the two dogs with his arms outstretched. He was rubbing both of them and giggling while the dogs leaned into him. Both Dodger and Amelia were in constant motion, twisting and turning to get access to each other and to lick Ollie’s face— still sticky with leftover syrup from breakfast.

Innocently enough, a squirrel scampered into the path a few feet ahead for a fallen nut; it froze when both dogs immediately noticed it. Dodger and Amelia moved as one towards the squirrel, their playful demeanor was gone and now on the prowl. Ollie, caught up between them and their leashes, was knocked down face-first on the asphalt.

His wail was almost instantaneous, but for a moment, both Chris and Kat had been yanked several steps forward by the dogs, who were pulling full force toward the escaping squirrel. Ollie’s sobs pulled Kat’s attention and she yelled, “Amelia!” Yanking on the leash and looking over her shoulder at Ollie, who was struggling to sit up with his big coat.

“I’ve got them,” Chris reached over and took the leash, pulling both dogs back the best he could. He was strong, but their hunter modes had been activated and they were fiercely refusing to budge.

Kat fell to her knees in front of Ollie. She was usually a patient mom, allowing him a moment before she scooped him up. But this was new. His screams and cries were different than he’d ever had before and she lifted him to her shoulder whispering, “I got you, baby. Mommy’s got you,” while she got to her feet.

She turned to Chris, reaching out for Amelia’s lead, but he shook her off, “I’ll walk back with you. Your hands are full.” Ollie’s sobs in her ears made her head ring and she just nodded, starting back around the lake at a brisk pace. For a few paces, Chris was still wrangling the dogs, but quickly they were beside her. Ollie clung to her shoulders; each time he pressed his little face into her, he wailed louder. She’d never heard him like this and she felt her anxiety rising and a prickle of sweat along the back of her neck as she picked up her speed.

The backyard was in sight and she was all but running to get to it, letting Chris take a step ahead and pull the back gate open and not stopping when she got to the back door. She crashed into it, forgetting, in her rising panic, that she’d locked it and Ollie let out another screech when he bounced off her shoulder. She fumbled in her coat, trying to flap her gloves off for better access, when Chris was again beside her asking, “Which pocket?”

“Back left.”

Any other moment she would’ve thought about the feeling of his hands moving her coat to the side and sliding into her jeans pocket, all but cupping her ass as his fingers had to reach all the way into the pocket to get the small bunch of keys, but right now, she pushed the tingle away and stepped aside to let him unlock the door.

She set Ollie on the kitchen counter and immediately noticed the blood trailing down from a cut on his forehead. Kat got him out of his jacket and then stripped off her own, plus her gloves and hat, uncharacteristically leaving them in a pile on the floor. As Kat examined the cut, Chris lightly touched her lower back, reminding her he was still in the room, and softly said, “Tell me where your first aid stuff is, and I’ll get it.”

Kat just looked at him a moment, somehow in a daze, and then she nodded, giving him directions to the laundry room with the first aid kit. Both dogs trailed him– Dodger to explore the new smells and Amelia out of curiosity at what this man was doing in her house. All three returned; Amelia got comfortable in her bed by the fireplace, Dodger making himself just as comfortable practically on top of her in the same bed, and Chris passed behind Kat, running his hand lightly along her back, and set the kit next to Ollie, opening it and starting to pull out antiseptic wipes, ointment, and bandages.

With the help of lots of hugs and a gentle chant of, “You’re safe now, I got you, baby,” his sobs had subsided and he was now only sniffling. His tears and the blood had mingled down his cheek and Kat used a wet paper towel to wipe up some of it, before getting to work bandaging up the cut. It was bigger than she’d realized, but not very deep, so she let Chris hand her supplies and then handed used items to him to discard. When Ollie would yelp or sniffle, Kat would stop to soothe him and Chris would put a hand on Kat’s shoulder or back, doing what he thought would feel comfortable at the moment.

Twenty minutes later and a cup of chocolate milk later, Kat had soothed Ollie entirely and had planted him on the comfy sofa with an episode of Bluey playing. Dodger had immediately left his spot with Amelia and joined Ollie on the sofa; Amelia, not to be outdone, settled in on his other side. Ollie grinned at both of them, his little bandaged forehead wrinkling when his face lit up. Kat turned to start cleaning up the mess she’d created in the kitchen. To her surprise, the jackets and accessories were no longer on the floor, nor were their boots, and the first aid kit was no longer on the counter. Chris came back into view as she finished processing and he smiled at her, putting his hands on his hips.

The silence stretched between them, only occasionally broken by the soft giggles that Bluey elicited from Ollie. They watched each other tentatively, neither knowing exactly how to move forward. It was certainly new territory for both of them. How often do you end up standing in a cozy kitchen and listening to a children’s cartoon with the person you had a one-night-stand with weeks before?

It felt like middle school; they kept making eye contact and then neither knew what to do or say, so they’d blush furiously and avert their eyes only to do it again seconds later. After a solid minute, Kat finally started to move across the kitchen toward the fridge. Chris was still hovering by one of the barstools with his hands shoved in his pockets. She started to pull things out of the fridge and freezer, piling them on the kitchen counter, and then moved to the pantry, gathering more items before pulling out a pot, a huge cast-iron pan, a stack of plates, and two glasses.

She filled one with water from the filter on the fridge and slid it across the island to where Chris was standing and watching her. She gave him a tentative smile and then turned back around to the gathered items and asked, “Grilled cheese?”

Chris was silent while he took a sip of water, suddenly realizing how dry his throat had become just watching her in her home… with her son… He hadn’t thought twice about making sure the three of them got home okay and that Ollie wasn’t seriously injured. It had just felt normal, natural to walk next to her with the dogs, to listen to her talk to her son, and to offer her a comforting touch. And then suddenly he’d had his hand cupping her ass while he tried not to grope for her house key. They’d moved together with surprising ease when he grabbed the first aid supplies and played nursemaid while she bandaged and soothed Ollie. Then cleaning up had been easy– he could see how nervous she’d gotten when Ollie was hurt, and cleaning up the kitchen was the least he could do.

Now she was moving around her kitchen again, heating frozen soup from a Tupperware container and melting butter in the cast iron. Her hips swayed ever so slightly with each movement and he wanted to put his hands on them, to feel the curve of her ass again.

“Chris?”

Fuuuuuck she was staring at him. No longer was she moving casually around the kitchen but she had one hip leaning against the counter, her hand resting lightly on the other, and she was staring at him with an eyebrow quirked.

“Uhh–”

“Would you like a grilled cheese sandwich? I’m going to make lunch for Ollie and me. I have some soup too if you’d like it.”

“Yeah,” he said too quickly and cleared his throat, “yeah, that would be great, thank you. Can I help?”

She shook her head, turning back to the stove, “How long have you had Dodger?”

Chris jumped into the story of meeting Dodger and Kat was glad he couldn’t see her face blushing, and even if he had, she would’ve blamed it on her face hovering over the hot pans. The silence was killing her. She was normally so comfortable in silence– she was happy in her own company or just with Ollie and Amelia. The silence was golden– especially as a toddler mom. But the silence that stretched between the two of them was… charged.

It was far from awkward.

It was the kind of silence that falls between two people who’ve fucked. And are thinking about what it would be like to do it again.

Kat could feel his eyes on her every time she turned around. She tested her theory, swinging her hips ever so slightly to the Bluey theme song from the next room and listening to the counter stool scratch on the floor as he rearranged his position. Then she “dropped” the dish towel and bent over to pick it up, followed by a grunt, covered quickly by a cough and a gulp of water.

Eventually, she was out of items to prep at the stove and had to start putting dishes in the sink, which put her face-to-face with him. She caught his eye again while he watched her push up the sleeves of her sweater and his Adam’s apple bobbed. How her exposed forearm was attractive was a mystery to Kat, but Chris was squirming from his seat. He’d finished telling her about meeting Dodger and an electric silence had fallen between them again.

“What about Amelia?”

Kat laughed, running a sponge over the spatula, “Ames found me. When I was still living in Hartford I was out for a run one morning. There was an animal adoption fair going on in the park and a pen of rescued puppies had broken. The puppies had escaped and the volunteers were frantic. I passed them while I was running and just tried to stay out of the way. Next thing I know there was this little fluffy delight keeping pace with me. She stayed with me for almost half a mile before I finally stopped laughing at her and thought about taking her back.”

“And the name?”

“Oh well, when I took her back to the adoption folks we all kept making jokes about her running away and, you know, taking flight. I have a slightly too intense fascination with Amelia Earhart… it just seemed to fit.”

Chris nodded, watching fondly as Kat spoke about Amelia. She’d pulled her attention away from Chris and was looking towards the sofa with a soft smile. Without warning she walked away from the kitchen and into the living room. He watched her lean over the back of the sofa and kiss Ollie’s head before she was ruffling Amelia’s fur. The dog craned her neck back and leaned into Kat. Chris took it all in, the tender moment with Kat’s children, the strip of skin exposed when she leaned over, her ass in the air, and then Dodger’s jealousy taking over when he sprawled across Ollie to join the snuggles. Both Ollie and Kat giggled, and Chris couldn’t stop his own grin.

Kat laughed again when she came back to the island, washing her hands and turning back to the stove. “Sorry, I can’t resist them sometimes, they’re just so cute.”

“I get it, Dodge is the love of my life.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty big sentiment,” Kat glanced over her shoulder with a smirk as she dropped bread into the heated pan with a soft sizzle.

Chris shrugged, “I’ve never had a relationship as pure as that one.” “Is he your first dog?”

“No way, I’ve had others, I’ve had girlfriends who’ve had dogs that I loved dearly, but no one has ever been quite like Dodger. He’s just… well, I had his name tattooed on me, and I’ve never had a woman I’ve come close to doing that with.”

Kat laughed, “Okay, so we’re speaking truths today I guess.”

“Sorry,” Chris laughed, “too much?”

“I’m teasing you. I get it. People don’t get it when I say similar things about Ollie or Amelia. But there are just some souls that you feel a deeper connection to. I don’t mean I want to marry my son or my dog. I just mean that they’re…” she trailed off, looking sheepish and putting her focus back on the pan in front of her.

“I know what you mean,” he said softly, moving around the island as she put two grilled cheeses on the cutting board beside her. He started to slice the first one into small pieces and Kat did a double take.

“How did you know to do that for Ollie?”

“This isn’t for Ollie, I’m just a Hollywood diva and chewing takes too much effort,” Chris held her eyes and kept a straight face for several seconds, causing Kat to stare at him and start to stutter. He broke into a grin and shook his head, returning to cut, “My sister has kids.”

“The diva thing seemed legit,” Kat smirked at him, earning her hip bump from Chris. Kat’s heart sped up at the simple, flirty move and she tried to focus on not burning the next sandwiches in the pan.

After cutting the sandwich, he plated it on a little wooden owl plate that Kat had waiting on the counter and carried it to the kitchen table where Ollie’s high chair stood. He went back and grabbed the rest of the supplies, setting the table for lunch for the three of them. Kat gathered Ollie and buckled him in while Dodger and Amelia circled like sharks under him, waiting for dropped cheese, before Kat kicked them out and back into the bed by the fireplace. Ollie’s babbling, singing, and giggling kept the adults entertained and their focus off of each other for the whole meal. Kat watched as Chris interacted with Ollie, leaning in intently and nodding along while Ollie rambled. Chris would ramble right back and they’d both roar with laughter while they made goofy faces at each other.

She finished ahead of them and sat back in her seat, watching the two of them, and thinking about the moment she’d never seen Ollie share with any other man. Her father, when they were around, was a loving grandfather but wasn’t nearly as animated– unless he was holding Ollie and explaining the football lineups. Ben and Kevin Facetimed with Ollie frequently, but it was hard for a 20-month-old to sustain his attention. He’d truly never had a man give him this kind of undivided attention. It was both endearing and terrifying to see how quickly they settled into a rapport after being perfect strangers two hours ago.

“Finished, Momma,” Ollie turned to Kat covered in tomato soup and waving his hands in sign language. She moved to get up, but Chris held a hand out to her, popping the last of his crust in his mouth.

“I got ya, little dude,” he scooped Ollie out of the high chair and onto the floor. Quick as a flash, he had his plate and Ollie’s in the dishwasher before leaning down on his knees to get on the toddler’s level. “Can you show me your favorite toy?”

Ollie grinned and nodded, grabbing Chris’s hand in his and tugging him towards the playroom. He dropped to the ground commanding, “Sit,” to Chris before starting to pull out his favorite train set. Kat sat frozen at the table, watching it all unfold in awe. Chris immediately set to work building a track and letting Ollie bark directions at him while he followed the best he could.

Kat used the moment of peace to finish cleaning up, glancing back at the two every so often to find them still amid construction with the occasional “choo chooooo” noise from one of them as a train traveled the tracks.

When she’d run out of things to clean and put away, she wandered into the adjoining living room and continued to watch them for a few minutes before she finally had to intervene. “Ol, we’ve got to go up for a nap, buddy. Can you say goodbye to Chris?”

“I should get out of your hair anyway,” Chris got to his feet as Kat scooped Ollie into his arms; he dropped his head onto her shoulder and rubbed his eyes, reminding Kat that she didn’t have too long to chat.

“Thank you,” she looked at Chris, allowing her eyes to bounce between his to capture him in a serious moment. “Seriously, for getting us back here in my panic and then for entertaining him. I appreciate it a lot.”

Chris shrugged, waving her off, “Anytime, I’m happy to hang with him,” he reached out to ruffle Ollie’s hair.

Their eyes met again and lingered, Kat unintentionally biting her lip and Chris’s eyeline following the movement. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she stepped forward and slid an arm around Chris’s waist, Ollie’s head still resting on her shoulder. She perched up on her toes and went to kiss his cheek.

Chris turned at the last moment, connecting their lips and taking the chance to hold her waist. Kat immediately reciprocated his kiss, leaning into him briefly before her brain caught up with her body; as quick as it started, it stopped and she jumped away from him.

“Shit,” he muttered, “I’m sorry– I just–”

“It’s fine. I should… I’m going to just… I need to put him down.” Chris nodded, “Dodger and I will head home.”

Kat stared at him, her mind racing, her heart thumping loudly in her chest, and forced herself to walk away and up the stairs.

[tpeakphotos]

Zabriskie Point in Death Valley NP is one of the park's more popular attractions. Composed of sediments from the ancient Furnace Creek Lake, many millennia of erosional forces have made it an absolutely otherworldly landscape. It is one of the most popular places in the park to watch a sunrise or a sunset looking out over the rugged terrain and colorful striae to the valley below and the mountains beyond. I had high hopes for amazing sunrise colors when my wife and I drove there early on the morning of the 17th as there was a perfect thin high cloud deck over our heads. I hoped this would throw color from the east behind us over the entire scene. Alas, upon our arrival we found that the only LOW clouds for miles were right over where the sun itself would emerge over the eastern ridgeline so the sky never really colored up. There was also a quite large group of folks attending a photo workshop which made it a bit of a challenge just to find a place to stand for picture taking. We persevered though and found a decent spot off to the side and waited out the sun for a while. Our patience was rewarded with a bit of nice golden light after the sun crested the aforementioned low clouds. I believe the prominent peak in the right part of this frame is known as Manly Peak, AKA Manly Beacon, named for William Lewis Manly, a 19th century pioneer known for rescuing several “49er” families from the many perils of Death Valley. Prints and merch available: https://tpeakphotos.com/featured/zabriskie-morning-mike-lee.html

[herd-reject-arts]

Hike/cleanup today! Twas very rocky and very uphill (and then, who could have guessed it, downhill on the way back?!? What's the world coming to?)

Older dog is too old for hikes now (😢) so I just took the younger doggo. She's like 5, whereas my other dog is 9, so I can still take her on stupid 1-mile-in-and-then-1.5-miles-up-a-mountain kind of hikes. I went there mostly to clean up trash, but ended up really enjoying the hike. Collected about 100lbs of trash from this one fucking park. I don't have any way to weigh it exactly, but I compared the weight of my dog (~75lbs) to the bags I had, and it outweighed her by a good bit. I also found an ancient, rusted hood of a car, but it alone weighed about what my dog does and I didn't feel like carrying it over uneven, rocky terrain for the better part of a mile. Almost threw out a Geocache box at one point, before I remembered that they use ammo boxes and opened it up. Whoops!

Got the best photo of her I've ever gotten, too. I was trying to persuade my friends to show up and snapped a quick picture of dog as motivation to help, and she was doing a mlem. It is now my phone's wallpaper.

The park is called Little Egypt if anyone's curious. Caryville, TN. Really pretty area. I'd love to move out there but alas! the world sucks and the housing market is a joke 😔

[quirkymarshmallows93]

A Dollar Tree location at Century Center in West Springfield, MA, featuring two different specimens of vestigial branding. In the photo on the left, Super Dollar Tree signage recalls a time of segmented branding (a topic about which I’ve written before), complete with a dollar sign in place of the letter S. The concept was a forerunner to the chain’s current conventional planogram, which back in its first growth spurt contrasted with the smaller selection of regular Dollar Trees. In fact, this store harkens so far back that despite carrying the “Super” prefix, it lags behind many newer Dollar Tree stores, sans-Super, that feature refrigerated and frozen sections, which this location lacks. Other locations featuring the Super Dollar Tree banner exist in the United States, but have not been comprehensively documented. Some other signs (at least all that came up on Google Images) do not begin with a dollar sign, but rather a regular S, and do not curve upward either. All new Dollar Tree stores only feature those two words, Dollar Tree, on their facades.

In the image the right, the retailer’s wordmark in its legacy font, and the company’s former slogan, “Where Everything’s $1.00”, below it. As I write this, I am reminiscing to a time when I went to a now-shuttered Chinese buffet a few doors down in this shopping plaza with my brother and our grandparent-like figures. As we waited for the place to clear up (yes, it was that busy), we walked to this very store, which I vaguely remember prominently featuring the “Where Everything’s $1.00” branding, complete with a more robust product offering, around a decade prior to 2020s inflation. Now, since the retailer increased its prices across the board to the $1.25 price point, this archaic facet of its corporate identity has been cleansed from stores. The powers that be have removed this branding from the storefront, but my attention gravitates toward the two leftmost panels of glass that, unlike the rest that allow for viewing into the store and for natural light to come in from the north, feature a black covering behind them to provide privacy for the small office space directly behind it. Speaking of which, they couldn’t have given the office staff at least a little window cutout with a blind for some view outside from the office? Also, yes, that is a silhouette of me taking the photo. Anyway, the pane of glass on the right has had the old branding blacked out, in a not subtle way, but the very leftmost one, for whatever reason, still remains vestigially branded with Dollar Tree’s vintage appliqué. This location, with its small amount of vestigial branding, reminds me of a Dollar Tree in East Greenbush, NY, that I visited shortly before the 25% price increase, which was straight out of the 90s (80s?) with its ancient “Everything’s $1.00” seriffed branding plastered everywhere inside the store and on its windows, and exterior signage in a narrow font that has also been done away with in new stores, replaced by carbon copy logo signage. Alas, even that old store has had all traces removed of its previous life as a true dollar store.

This is the Dollar Tree in Upstate New York, prior to renovation. Like, it went hard. Now the closest we get is a cartoon tree with the number one as its trunk, we all see through that shit DT, get your act together.

[daniel-fortesque]

Expedition to the ruins...

A few weeks ago Janelle discovered an ancient map of Rauryn Heights in the crypt of an old ruined family vault of an unknown soldier. There were several places on the map, including ones that no longer existed, but one place that was truly intriguing was the map in the area of the freshwater lake next to the "White Mansion Ruins" to the north, marked in red ink, a blur with a barely legible inscription "Bloody spurs".

Bloody spurs. Lake near the ruins

Cullen: Father, we're here. Ussur cleared the passage, and now we are sailing to look around. As soon as we are on site, I will contact you. End of connection!

Sean: Got it, be careful!

Ichthyander Ussur floats to the surface of the lake and swims up to Harker's boat.

Ussur: Lord Cullen, the path is clear!

C: Okay, let's see what's in there. Kallen and Ussur swim through the tunnel and emerge in a grotto under the mansion.

U: Over here, my lord. Kallen and Ussur disappeared into the darkness of the cave.

Bloody spurs. Grotto

C: A real grotto under the mansion. I wonder who lived here used this tunnel to hide something?

U: Rather, he was hiding from love adventures ... well, or from creditors. I guess the cave was once more "cleaner", but due to earthquakes, half of the cave is deformed, and the water has become strange ... and the water is the color of blood, smelling of metal.

C: Don't you love this smell?

U: It's different here, my lord... Vile.

C: I agree. Okay, let's take a look.

They moved between the sharp stalactites, trying not to hurt themselves. The grotto was no larger than the living room at the main Harker estate in Twinburke. But because of the collapses, it was difficult to understand its real size. The cave was of natural origin, only the stone arches, plausibly close to the style, stood out a little. Cullen noticed them.

C: Look, it looks like there is an entrance to another room. Ussur glanced into the darkness of the room indicated by Cullen.

U: It looks like it. But I suggest looking around here for now.

C: Yes, but the lights don't stop flickering. It’s impossible to look around normally, at least for me for sure.

U: Why, my lord?

C: Although I am the son of a vampire, I do not see in the dark and through walls like you or just in the dark like a father.

U: I beg your pardon, Lord Cullen, I forgot. But, alas, my vision here for some reason is powerless. I can't see anything behind objects or behind walls. Something is bothering me. But through the darkness, I see everything clearly. Please forgive me.

C: Stop apologizing, Ussur. By the way, you need to contact them. Cullen turned on the headset.

“Cullen speaking, over?

S: Over, Cullen, we hear you well, the signal on the camera is very bad, the picture is not visible. Everything is fine?

C: Yes. Ussur and I are in the grotto under the mansion. Everything is “overgrown” with stones, most of the hall is littered, so there is nowhere to turn around. The water inside is red and smells like metal, but it's not blood, as Ussur says. It's something else...

J: "Something else"? For example?

C: No idea, Mom. The smell of metal, maybe there is something metallic here ... it has rusted, coloring the water, but in this light it is impossible to understand. The lanterns here are very junk. We need to come back here with more advanced equipment, and not light as it is now.

S: Right, given that you went there just to reconnoiter. I will ask Thor to come, then we will discuss further actions. Video transmission is not working on your camera, Cullen, switch it to photo mode and take a picture of everything in the cave. When you return, we will study all the pictures in more detail.

C: I will. We're moving on, I'll call again later.

U: My lord, did you find any information about this building above us? S: No, we have already discussed everything that we knew. Nothing more could be dug up.

Ussur and Cullen turned off the radio, and Harker began renting the room. Ussur, on the other hand, examined the cave, but he was not going to go into the arch discovered by Cullen alone. Ussur walked around the cave several times, but he did not find anything useful or unusual. Only the statue above the water and standing on a pedestal worried him a little. Even when he swam up to her and probed, he did not find anything unusual.

Having finished shooting the grotto, Cullen nodded to Ussur and the two of them went deep into the grotto. With their hands on the shoulders of the ichthyander, they walked in a file, and the vampire was the "eyes" of both. Ussur felt tension at every step, and this did not escape his companion.

C: What's the matter, buddy? Do you see anything behind the walls? U: No, nothing. There is something I don't like here.

C: Danger?

U: Possibly. The corridor of the narrow corridor was partially littered, it would be impossible to clear it with just one pickaxe. Dynamite was excluded - the collapse of the ceiling is guaranteed! The travelers came out into the only uncluttered small hall, but it was not a natural cave, it was a room with well-finished and hewn walls. Cullen took a few shots, with the flash he could see a little of the room, but the scenery was no different from the previous room. Cullen contacted the Harkers again.

C: Callen speaking, over? A strong crackling sound was heard in the earpiece, at the other end they answered. The connection was clearly broken and barely caught.

S: Cullen... it's hard to hear.

C: It's okay! I repeat, everything is fine. Communication deteriorates as you go deeper. How did you get it?

Crack again. The signal was weakening.

S: Understood…sho…Communication…pl…Cullen…don’t delay… Go back to…and from there, along…no… How do you understand, n…?!

C: Accepted. End of connection!

S: The end...!

Ussur returned from somewhere behind his back and, lightly touching Cullen, said: “My lord, I found something in the other room. Come on! In this corridor, a copper light shone faintly and Cullen's flashlight.

There was a faint copper light in this corridor, and Cullen's flashlight worked more or less normally. This corridor was just as small, but unlike the other rooms, this one looked the most interesting. At one far end of the wall were three red granite columns carved into niches. The columns were the same along the edges, the niches were approximately in the middle of the pillars, and the third between them with a niche almost at the top and in it stood a terrible altar object. The skull on the candelabra looked across the room. In front of this column stood a tall golden candelabra with a beautiful stone with carved lace petals embedded inside.

C: Interesting, isn't it? One particular skull appears to be made of something, the stone looks like plaster. There are some precious stones in the eye sockets. And jewelry physalis in a candelabra bowl. U: It looks like these items are part of the mechanism ...

C: And the same thought flashed through me when I saw this skull, but where he looks is also littered with stones.

Ussur turned sharply to the wall and began to move his hands along the walls, as if he had sensed something.

C: Hey, what are you doing?

U: My lord, have you read the books of your ancestor Master Janos Harker, an archaeologist-adventurer?

C: So, wait… Janos… Janos… Ah! Ephra's son, huh? The one who found a lot of artifacts in Egypt and canopic canopies with sarcophagi?

U: Yep.

C: No, just one... "Curse of the Pharaoh's Tomb" or something like that... Why?

U: Master Janos wrote in his books what he told us all. Lord Janos once mentioned that in one of the lost tombs in the Valley of the Kings, he found a room with several carved plinths. The lord said that several plinths were empty, and the rest carried certain objects in accordance with the inscriptions in the bases.

C: Oh yes. I forgot that you caught him alive, and I think you were the one who predicted to Ephra that she would have twins, right?

U: Fortunately, yes.

C: You know, sometimes I envy you.

Ussur turned to Cullen questioningly.

C: You saw many Harkers personally, watched their birth, how they grew up and all their life until their death you were with them. In this I envy you. Ussur smiled sadly.

U: No, my lord. There is nothing to envy here. Every time someone dies in the family, everything inside me is torn apart. And the thought that I can do nothing kills me ... Powerless in front of it.

Cullen grimaced and, in order to lead his friend in a more important direction, changed the subject.

C: If you are hinting at the inscriptions, then they are not here, but about the objects ... One of them is a skull on the topmost pedestal, so to speak, it is in place. But two niches are empty, which means they must be "occupied with something." Ussur moved along the wall diligently feeling each stone, peering with his eyesight, but they did not see anything, which is strange. Ichthyander now stretching out to the full length of his body, then shrinking into rings like a snake, he led his hands down along the entire wall. Nothing. Taking a deep breath, he returned to the pillars.

U: Did you take a picture of the room, my lord?

Cullen nodded.

U: Well, that's all we can do for now. These pillars are definitely some kind of mechanism... But certain items are needed.

C: Skulls? W: I think so too. Once one of them is already in place, you need to find or make others yourself.

C: We may be wrong, but it's worth a try.

Ichthyander crossed his arms over his chest and for a long time examined the columns and the candelabra in front of them.

Then he nodded to Cullen and spoke. U: We have to go back. Lord Sean and the others will be worried that we've been out of touch for so long. Yes, I would like to return as soon as possible. Cullen smiled broadly.

C: Do you think my son has already woken up and missed you?

Ussur was slightly embarrassed and could not help smiling in return.

U: I hope so, my lord. Cullen looked around the gloomy grotto. This cave holds no less secrets than the mansion above them, or rather, what is left of it.

C: So far, I can say with accuracy that we have found the entrance to the grotto and this corridor leads further, but in order to understand how we can move forward, we need to return here more equipped and prepared. Let's go from here.

U: I agree.

***

The next expedition failed. Cullen and Ussur returned home and the family, having discussed the details, decided to postpone the visit to the grotto in the near future until Janelle recovered. But soon Sean's wife was hospitalized with a serious illness, and the adventure to visit the grotto was postponed. After several months of grueling struggle, Janelle died in the hospital. Ussur no longer brought up the subject of the ruins with his family, but guided by his curiosity and adventurous nature, he secretly sailed to the grotto for his own exploration.

- Harker Dynasty (playing this family since 2017)  

[ato-matsuri]

With that, I also reshot every photo so the filters matched (and so they were all looking at the friggin’ camera)!

Meet (respectively) Aegis, Primus, Nicholas, Orochi, Centurion, Type-3 Kiryu, and Bingwater! (All in the order they were caught!)

Aegis (Iron Valiant) - 29 minutes to catch

Primus (Iron Moth) - 1 hour 30 minutes to catch

Nicholas (Iron Bundle) - 46 minutes to catch

Orochi (Iron Jugulis) - 7 minutes to catch

Centurion (Iron Treads) - 44 minutes to catch

Type-3 Kiryu (Iron Thorns) - 2 minutes to catch

Bingwater (Iron Hands) - 2 hours 47 minutes to catch, one failed attempt @ 26 minutes

Alas, now I am probably gonna try and catch every ancient Paradox Pokemon shiny… I’ll do that eventually, though! I still have to beat Pokemon Scarlet, after all.

[lindsaystravelblogs3]

Days 108 to 110 10-12 September

Day 108   10 September

A mystery day!  We were at sea in the morning with lectures and more citizen science but after lunch we were at Edinburgh Island – and I have absolutely no recollection of it at all.  Heather went ashore and one of her photos shows what looks a bit like my hand with my signet ring at the edge, but I don’t have a single photo from the day, so I am pretty sure I didn’t accompany her ashore.  Having said that, I have a vague recollection of arriving on shore one day, only to find my camera battery flat and both my spares still on the ship, so who knows?  Alas, I don’t think we will ever know for sure – just another lost day out of my strange life.  A few of Heather’s photos look quite familiar – landscapes very similar to those we saw quite often – but others that obviously were significant to her but are completely unfamiliar to me.

Day 109    11 September

Back to reality.  I enjoyed some of time a couple of days ago on my own at Cambridge Bay – or should I call it Painbridge Bay?  But I think today was probably the best day of the trip for me. 

Today, we were at Port Epworth where it was a few degrees warmer than it had been over the past week or so and our shore excursion promised much.  We were promised some stromatolites and we saw plenty – many more, and looking quite a bit different from, those we have seen in a few places in Western Australia. Stromatolites are very ancient colonies of microscopic cyanobacteria, thought to be one of the earliest forerunners of life on earth, that have eventually formed into beds of (usually) circular rocks.

Almost as soon as we alighted from our zodiacs, we came across a ridge of rock with dozens of examples and our cameras ran hot – but much larger areas and more defined examples were seen a little later in the morning.  We broke up into three groups – long hikers, short hikers and the much-maligned beachcombers.  With my hips, I couldn’t contemplate anything other than beachcombing and only one other woman chose to join this group.  Of course, we still needed a guide with a gun in case a polar bear came searching for his/her lunch – and we were allocated our chief naturalist: the guy I spent most time with anyway.  It ended up with just the three of us (joined late in the morning by one of the other guides) exploring a wonderful stretch of coast and a nearby island. 

First up, there was a call to ‘come quick’ because someone had seen some birds – a groups of about eight Willow Ptarmigans, an exceptionally secretive species that allowed us to get to within about five metres of them while they scratched around in the undergrowth, and although photography was challenging, we all got acceptable pics.  The long hikers later spotted a Rock Ptarmigan, and the short hikers got a glimpse of a White-tailed Ptarmigan, both at extreme distance, but the Willow beauties were almost running around our feet.  It was certainly a big thrill for me and even for Pierre, my favourite naturalist.

Next came a huge flood of Snow Buntings, a few hundred of them flying south, all around us over half an hour or so – only to fly back again a little later in the morning.  We saw quite a few other birds, several that we had not seen previously on this trip – as well as a couple of active nests on rocks close inshore.  My hips were causing quite a bit of pain so I chose to sit on some rocks for a while and let the birds come to me – and they did.  What a wonderful morning!!  We were walking in a very boggy area with many very small ponds between the reeds and we surprised a few more waterbirds as we walked along.  The flora was also quite spectacular – not that I recognised much, but had Heather come out with us, she would have had a field day.  I took lots of photos and took them back to her and some of them ended up on the ship list of species seen on the expedition.  (In retrospect, most but not all, of the photos I took for her were of the same species she photographed on my lost day when she was on Edinburgh Island yesterday.)

We also saw a few ground squirrels – very cute little rodents that poked their heads up for photos from time to time.  I love all squirrels and these were especially cute.

The guide who joined us late in the morning was one of the Inuit guides and we found ourselves in an area with quite a lot of jetsam and other discarded rubbish along the littoral.  Between us, we collected dozens of items and piled them on the beach for removal back to the ship for proper disposal – but I think it may have all been for nought.  One of the other guides said we weren’t allowed to take anything from the land back on board (despite us having done it – and been encouraged to do it – on numerous occasions on this and previous trips) and despite making a few unanswered enquiries, I suspect he prevented it from being disposed of in a proper manner.

All up, it was a wonderful morning.  We had another landing close by along the coast in the afternoon.  It was quite similar to the morning’s meanderings but there were more people in the group, and it held little of the magic I experienced in the morning.  The morning landing was an unusually long one while the afternoon one was quite short, but overall, I rate the day as probably the best of the expedition.

Late in the afternoon, the ship positioned into a very calm cove where a few (very few) hardy souls did the tame (very tame) Polar Plunge. Having done it ourselves, in both the north and south polar regions, in more extreme conditions than existed today, (and before the ultra risk-averse namby-pamby conditions were implemented - who needs a safety harness and extraction rope when we can simply swim back to the ladder and our waiting shot of vodka?), we didn't feel we needed to risk exacerbating our sniffles by doing it again. We didn't have anything to prove - least of all to ourselves!

Day 110     12 September

Today, we were in the Dolphin and Union Strait – sailing up and back, up and back, for over 24 hours to avoid the gale-force winds outside the main Strait.  It was simply a holding pattern while we waited for the winds to abate so we spent all day in lectures, citizen science – and, of course, eating and drinking.  The scenery was interesting but after a while, repetition got the better of us and we started to ignore it.

[qnewslgbtiqa]

Thirstiest reactions to Jeremy White Allen in Calvin Klein

New Post has been published on https://qnews.com.au/thirstiest-reactions-to-jeremy-white-allen-for-calvin-klein/

Thirstiest reactions to Jeremy White Allen in Calvin Klein

Actor Jeremy Allen White is the latest male celebrity to strip off as the face of Calvin Klein underwear, and the thirst is real.

The American actor became a global sex symbol after his role as the short-tempered but brilliant chef Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto on The Bear, streaming in Australia on Disney+.

In the new Calvin Klein campaign, which dropped overnight, Jeremy trades his chef’s uniform for underwear in the photos and videos by fashion photographer Mert Alas shot in New York.

Jeremy got ripped to film his latest film The Iron Claw. In the A24 flick, the actor plays beefy professional wrestler Kerry Von Erich alongside Zac Efron and Harris Dickinson.

“I was used to running around in front of large groups of people in my underwear because of [that movie],” Jeremy told GQ. “So maybe there was some mental and emotional prep [for this shoot] from that job.”

The Iron Claw is in Australian cinemas next week.

Check out Jeremy’s Calvin Klein photos below, and watch the promo video as many times as you need:

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Calvin Klein (@calvinklein)

  View this post on Instagram

  A post shared by Calvin Klein (@calvinklein)

After the campaign dropped, over on Gay Twitter X, Jeremy Allen White’s Calvin Klein shoot had people assuming the position.

*assume the position pic.twitter.com/dfs03EAfxC

— Jeremy (@jeremyyrayy92) January 4, 2024

me liking every jeremy allen white for calvin klein tweet i see on the timeline pic.twitter.com/iTzWgMHxOb

— juan (@redrumjuan) January 4, 2024

My bussy seeing these photos of Jeremy Allen White this morning pic.twitter.com/evYPr6kTFj

— Cole Barrett (@barrettjcole) January 4, 2024

talking to people who don’t find jeremy allen white attractive pic.twitter.com/elj8Jy1nnF

— rad libs (@Rad323) January 4, 2024

the types of images that make a young gay boy start realizing things https://t.co/V04uJnxzNz

— matt (@mattxiv) January 4, 2024

i would let him spit in my food https://t.co/Je6RNNpx16

— Matt Bellassai (@MattBellassai) January 4, 2024

“Jeremy Allen White for Calvin Klein”

Me: pic.twitter.com/PprmUrA1WZ

— 🏳️‍🌈Jackson🏳️‍🌈 (@jackHollywood09) January 4, 2024

me double tapping to zoom in on all the jeremy allen white pictures this morning pic.twitter.com/Ya6bPhhhof

— monica (@waystarroyhoe) January 4, 2024

Jeremey Allen White it seems I’ve grown quite AWOOOGA HUMANA HUMANA HUMANA BOO-OI-OI-OINGGG of you… https://t.co/O0yGtrw1bO

— Paul McCallion (@OrangePaulp) January 4, 2024

I just bit a chunk out of my bed frame https://t.co/Mojc1vC1Me

— bailey (@gaileyasf) January 4, 2024

Jeremy Allen White you would be unstoppable in Ancient Greece pic.twitter.com/nKdneJtAxc

— Meech (@MediumSizeMeech) January 4, 2024

Having some very LGBTQ+ thoughts https://t.co/dFn4qHubLa

— Joe ✨ (@JoeWritesThings) January 4, 2024

For the latest LGBTIQA+ Sister Girl and Brother Boy news, entertainment, community stories in Australia, visit qnews.com.au. Check out our latest magazines or find us on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and YouTube.